Mark 10:46-52
October 27, 2024
Back in December of 2010, I had to
have surgery on my left foot. After my surgery I had to keep weight off the
foot, so I used crutches and wore a non-walking boot for at least a month,
maybe a little longer. This wasn’t too much trouble if all I had to do was stay
home, but you can’t stay home all the time. I had children and I had a home and
a job. I had things to do. One of those things was having to shop sometimes. I
needed groceries, but because I was on crutches, I couldn’t just walk around
the grocery store hopping behind a basket. The only store that had motorized
carts in the town where we lived was Walmart, so that’s where I went.
I had never used a motorized cart
before, so I though I might have a little trouble maneuvering it around the
store. I was worried that I might accidentally hit something or someone as I
was trying to make my way through the aisles. But the cart was easy to drive,
so my worries didn’t pan out. What I didn’t expect was that the minute I sat
down in that cart I was rendered invisible. And this wasn’t the kind of
invisible that’s considered a superpower either. I didn’t run into folks; they
ran into me. I didn’t get in people’s way; they blocked mine. When people would
bother to look at me, I would often get dirty looks as though I was just some
lazy woman who didn’t want to bother with walking. Then they would notice my
crutches and I would become invisible again.
Not
everyone in the store that day was rude or dismissive. But I was shocked at how
many people just didn’t see me at all, or if they did, looked at me with
disdain or dismissal. This was a perspective I had never had before, and
because of it I got a glimpse as to how much persistence and perseverance is
needed just to survive a trip to the grocery store if you have a disability or
special need.
And if it takes persistence and
perseverance to live with a special need in our time and context, with as much
as we have in the way of accessibility and assistance, think about how hard it
would have been for a person with a disability or special need, say blindness,
in the time that Jesus walked and lived on this earth.
Throughout this chapter in Mark,
really throughout the entire gospel until this point, we have been reading
about those who cannot see Jesus for who he really is. He has been telling his
disciples, his closest followers who have agreed that he is the Son of God,
exactly what would happen to him, exactly what he would endure, that he would
die, and that he would be raised up again. Yet in response, Jesus has been
rebuked and misunderstood. The disciples have argued about who was the greatest
among them, they have been upset that someone else not in their group was
casting out demons in Jesus’ name. They have tried to keep children away from
him. And two of them have asked for special seats next to Jesus when he comes
into his power. None of the disciples have a physical issue with sight, but
none of them can truly see Jesus either.
Now we come to what is considered
the end of the first part of Mark’s gospel, and we meet a man who cannot
physically see, a man who cannot support himself except by begging. Yet this
man, who has no physical sight, has insight that those seeing people around him
do not have. He sees Jesus. His limitation of sight does not keep
him from knowing Jesus, from recognizing Jesus.
Jesus is moving inexorably toward
the cross. Immediately after this story, Jesus will make his “triumphal entry”
into Jerusalem. But before he moves into the city, before he enters Jerusalem
on the back of a colt, and the people lay palm branches and cloaks on the road
before him, Jesus and the disciples, and a large crowd of people following them,
leave Jericho. Along that Jericho Road, there is a blind beggar named
Bartimaeus or Bar-Timaeus, son of Timaeus. Mark states this twice, perhaps to
make sure his readers understand what the man’s name means, but also perhaps to
show that Bartimaeus would have been born into a household with some honor.
Most of the time we don’t know the names of the people who Jesus heals, but
this is an exception to that.
In
that time, being blind would have meant a life sentence of poverty and begging
for alms. Bartimaeus, Son of Timaeus, might have been born into a family with
honor, but his physical limitation meant that he would not have been able to enter
a profession or have his own family. His only method of support was to beg, so
there he was on the roadside, waiting. When he heard that the person
approaching him was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out, crying,
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on
me!”
Bartimaeus may have been blind, but
he was not deaf. He must have heard the commotion of so many feet coming near.
He must have heard the babble of voices, the whispers of wonder, the cries of
expectation, the excited discussions about Jesus in their midst, and what would
happen when he arrived in Jerusalem. Maybe Bartimaeus had heard rumors about Jesus.
Perhaps he had heard about the wondrous things that Jesus was doing, healing,
helping, teaching, feeding, and maybe, just maybe, Bartimaeus understood or perceived
in a way that went far beyond physical senses, who Jesus truly was and is.
Bartimaeus knew Jesus, without knowing Jesus. He saw
Jesus, without seeing Jesus.
So, when Jesus approached,
Bartimaeus realized he needed to get this man’s attention. He began shouting.
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on
me!”
You would think that the people
around Bartimaeus would have recognized what an opportunity this was for
Timaeus’ son. Here is someone who could help Bartimaeus, heal Bartimaeus.
Instead, they try to hush him.
“Be quiet, Bartimaeus!” “Stop
shouting, Bartimaeus!” “Don’t bother the teacher, Bartimaeus!” “Who are you to
cry out to him, Bartimaeus?!”
But
all their efforts to shush him, to quiet him, to stifle him, were futile, like
trying to keep a toddler quiet in a concert. Their attempts to quiet him just
made Bartimaeus more determined to be heard. Their shushing made Bartimaeus
shout even louder.
“Son
of David, have mercy on me!”
Jesus
heard. Through all the din, Jesus heard. He stopped walking and called
Bartimaeus to him. Now that Bartimaeus had Jesus’ attention, all the folks who
were trying to keep him quiet before suddenly changed their tune. Now they encouraged
him to go to Jesus.
“Hush
Bartimaeus. Oh no wait, he wants to see you. Go Bartimaeus, go!”
Bartimaeus
did not just stand up, he sprang up. He jumped up from that dirt road, threw
off his cloak, and went to Jesus.
Jesus
asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
This
was the same question that he asked James and John when they came to him with
their request. But whereas they asked Jesus for glory, for special rank and
honor, Bartimaeus asked for the deepest need of his heart.
“My
teacher, let me see again.”
Without
touching him, without uttering a prayer or speaking words that would seem to
bring forth healing, Jesus healed him. Jesus healed him, and said, “Go; your
faith has made you well.”
And
immediately, Bartimaeus, once forced to beg by the side of the road, regained
his sight. He saw and he followed Jesus on the way.
What
do you want me to do for you? I don’t think Jesus asked that question as a way
of stating the obvious, or to be obtuse. Jesus was not going to presume what
Bartimaeus’ deepest need was. Yes, Bartimaeus wanted to physically see again,
but he also asked, cried out for, mercy.
This
story has layers upon layers of meaning. Bartimaeus asked Jesus for mercy. His
physical blindness did not keep him from seeing Jesus for who he really was.
Bartimaeus believed in Jesus, had faith that Jesus was more than just this guy
doing good things throughout the land. He believed even though he could not
see. What a sharp contrast this makes to those who could see Jesus but could
not seem to believe.
And
let’s not underestimate how dramatic Bartimaeus’ response to Jesus was,
throwing off his cloak and springing to his feet. That cloak was probably all
that Bartimaeus had in this world. It would have given him warmth and some
protection from the elements at night. He could sit on it by day and spread it
out before him to collect the coins people gave him. And yet he willingly threw
this one measure of protection off, threw it down, and left it by the side of
the road to follow Jesus. Compare Bartimaeus’ actions to the wealthy man we met
earlier. He owned far more than a cloak, but he could not give up even that to
follow on the way.
Bartimaeus
was healed of his physical blindness, but his ability to see, to
understand, to perceive was already 20/20. Where others could see only with
their eyes, Bartimaeus was able to see with his heart.
This
story humbles me because I suspect that I am far more like the disciples who
can and cannot see who Jesus is. I am far more like the wealthy man who walks
away because he cannot let go of what keeps him from Jesus. I am far more like
the people who tried to hush Bartimaeus, to quiet him, embarrassed and
scandalized by someone who refuses to be silent out of desperate need.
This
story humbles me because I find myself wishing to be more like Bartimaeus, even
though by all accounts, I am far more privileged, powerful, well-off, then he
ever had the opportunity to be. And I am not glamorizing poverty or disability.
Bartimaeus was not more blessed because he was blind or because he was poor and
forced to beg. Bartimaeus was blessed, healed, because he did not let any
obstacle keep him from Jesus. He did not let his physical blindness blind his
heart and mind. He did not let it hamper or hinder his faith.
But
there is one way that I am like Bartimaeus, and that is I too cry out for
mercy. Have mercy on me, Jesus, Son of David, because of all the things I think
I need, mercy and grace are what I truly need. Show me grace, God, show me
mercy, because I need it even though I know I’m not worthy of it. And then,
help me to show others the same, to show others grace and mercy and love and
compassion. Show me mercy, God, so that I may be merciful. Show me grace, so
that I may be gracious. Isn’t that what the Reformers and the Reformation
recognized and passed onto the next generations, including ours? It’s not about
what we do or earn. It is about grace and our joyful response to Jesus’ call.
The
good news is that Jesus did just that. He showed mercy. He showed grace. He embodied
God’s grace, mercy, and love. And through that grace and forgiveness, he sees
in us what we cannot see in ourselves. He sees who we were created to be. Jesus
sees us in the same way Bartimaeus saw him, through the lens of abiding love. May
our response be to spring up with joy and follow him on the way. Thanks be to
God.
Let
all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”
Amen.
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